Page 80 of Take Me with You

Something about Hayes’s mother’s visitor rule alarmed me. Why would she forbid the rest of his family and friends from visiting? “Thank you,” I said and stepped through the door and into the adjacent hallway.

The door to his room was cracked open and I could tell it was dim inside. The swooshing sound of a respirator pumping oxygen and a beep that sounded every five seconds were the only sounds in the room. There was a curtain around the only bed. All hospital rooms looked the same and this was hardly any different than the rest, but it was considerably roomier without two patients. Besides the bed there was a sectional sofa with a smaller loveseat, tasteful lamps, a large coffee table, and a mini kitchen area in the far corner, sans any stovetop or cooking devices.

A fully stocked minibar with a glass-doored refrigerator holding several beverage choices was beside the kitchenette counter. It was as if someone was expecting a cocktail party to be hosted there. It made me wonder if wealthy patients recovered differently than us mere mortals.

I pulled the curtain back and my heart broke. First thing I noticed was how thin Hayes was. He had to have lost a minimum of twenty pounds in the past three weeks. A small growth of beard and mustache had invaded his face. Hayes was smooth and hairless and the view of him now was unnerving. I hadn’t imagined him capable of growing facial hair, and if he hadn’t been so damn skinny it might have actually worked for him.

Thin clear hoses were attached to his nostrils. Two were part of the same hose and I assumed were oxygen, while a single hose that was full of a milky substance went up and into a single nostril. They were feeding him and supplying extra oxygen at the same time. His eyes were closed and he looked awful to be honest.

He looked dead.

My heart stopped.

Where was my beautiful boy?

I pulled an uncomfortable looking bedside chair closer to him and sat down. The room was quiet once I got used to the soft beeping of the heart monitor and the caressing sounds of the respirator. I didn’t reach for his hand or say a single word to him. The sense of loss was too profound to attempt to comfort him or express my sorrow. I was the one needing comfort as I stared straight ahead and let the tears flow freely.

* * *

Two Days Later

The first two days were a blur as I sat quietly by Hayes and listened to the machines, willing them to do their magic and bring my love back to me. The room had an attached bathroom that belonged in a Four Seasons Hotel and was stocked with enough toiletries that a person could last a year. I’d only been here two days but it helped. Living within these four, sterile walls was an upgrade over my shack.

Each night, an attendant would come in the room and turn the sofa into a bed for me and take my gourmet food orders for the following day. The experience was unlike any hospital I had seen either on television or in person. I was in a five-star room that happened to be a medical facility for those who had the means.

The three personal family doctors rotated in eight hour shifts and each checked on his status every four hours. He was bathed twice a day by male attendants and his vitals were monitored by nurses every two hours. I had become quite good at living with the intrusions, knowing each person had Hayes’ health and recovery as their main goal. I made sure to provide space and understanding as I watched him being manipulated, prodded, and cared for. I had yet to speak a single word to him.

* * *

Another Two Days Later

On the fourth day a piece of luggage was delivered to the room with my name on the tag. The porter requested I put any dirty laundry I had into a provided bag and that my personal belongings would be handled by the facility. The luggage was a large brown trunk with the letters LV printed all over it. I didn’t recognize the brand but figured it was expensive based on the look and the smell of the leather when I opened the piece.

Inside were neatly folded dress shirts, T-shirts, slacks, jeans, belts that matched shoes of the same exact hue, undergarments, and socks. And of course, as I’d find out later, every item fit me to perfection. An envelope addressed to Boregard, which was written in elegant calligraphy on the front, was tucked under one of the straps that held the clothing in place. It could only be from Katherine Crawford.

Dearest Boregard,

Thank you for being by my son’s side this week. Knowing you are with him and loving him is all the proof I will ever require that you belong with Hayes.

I am quite sure you are stunned by the fact that I am not by his side as well, or that any member of his family isn’t for that matter. I have not informed his father or Phillip that he is hospitalized. I have my reasons and ask for your understanding.

I am in close contact with his caregivers and am advised on every treatment and recommendation that medical experts provide. As his mother and current guardian, my role is to make sure that Hayes heals. Your role is to love him for me in my absence. I am certain you are wondering why a mother would not visit her only child while he is in the hospital so let me explain why.

Hayes recently shared with me what his experiences were while staying with you for all those weeks we thought he was dead. I’ve been told that when you met my son he was in similar circumstances and you saved him. Hayes had none of the distractions and stresses that occupied his usual life every minute of the day when he was recovering in your home, and according to him he was allowed to thrive during his weeks with you.

He admitted to me that he had come out of the experience a changed man, a better version of himself were his exact words. He also confessed that the change was because of loving you and realizing you showed him he was lovable. He revealed to me he had never felt safer.

Returning home too soon was his undoing, Bo. As thankful as I was that he was found alive and returned safely to us, in hindsight, I truly believe he came home too soon. Returning to the reality of his life and the weighty dysfunction of our family ripped apart any growth he’d experienced in your loving care.

I’m attempting to replicate that experience for him, please stay by his side. Give my son the chance to remember the happy man he had briefly become when he was on Parris Island. With you, he was free of what lives like ours can do to people. Please open your heart to him one more time.

Katherine

I replaced the letter in the envelope and laid it on the designer clothing. She wanted me to replicate his experiences at the shack. The billionaire boy needed a lesson from the boy from the other side of the tracks. I could do that.

Moving the loose strands of hair from his forehead, I leaned over him and kissed him softly. “I know who you really are, baby.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX: Hayes

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